


87. Putting the pieces back together

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [87]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	87. Putting the pieces back together

_**Ryan Kwanten & Sam Worthington: Putting the pieces back together**_  
[current; takes place the day after [this encounter with Sam and (NPC) Alex Skarsgard](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/10559.html#cutid1)]

Ryan's had a lot of time to think about it. _Too_ much time, in fact. And he's spent way too much time on his laptop today, surfing Alex Skarsgard fansites and interviews and catching up on _True Blood_. Late in the afternoon he growls at himself in frustration, shuts the thing down, and goes out for a long run to clear his head.

Sam gets home earlier than usual but he's still exhausted. Between last night with Ryan and Alex, the recent visit to Natalie and the work schedule he's been keeping, he really needs some serious downtime. And sleep. He needs some fucking sleep. "I'm home," he calls out, closing and locking the door behind him.

Stepping out of the shower, Ryan cocks his head to listen, uncertain if he's heard right. "Sam?" he calls out, rubbing a towel over his hair.

"Yeah. I'm home," Sam calls back, making his way upstairs. "Where are you?" Heading for their bedroom as the most logical location.

"Right here." Ryan steps out of the bathroom with a smile, crossing the bedroom in long steps and wrapping his arm around his lover. "You're home early," he murmurs, just hugging Sam for a moment. "Everything okay?"

Sam hugs Ryan back, breathing in his fresh clean scent. Fuck. "Yeah. Everything's good. We just got lucky and finished up early." For once.

"That's awesome. Are you hungry? I'll ring for delivery. Hadn't started dinner yet," Ryan explains. He automatically lifts his hand to the nape of Sam's neck, starting to knead away any tension he finds there.

Sam nods, a soft groan spilling from his lips at the touch. "Starving. Delivery's good though. I can wait that long."

"Okay." Ryan brushes his lips over Sam's as he massages him a bit more. Then he steps back and drags on a pair of boxers. "Chinese okay?" he calls over his shoulder, heading down the steps to the kitchen to dig up the stack of take-away menus.

"Brilliant," Sam answers, following Ryan, hand trailing over his lover's hip as he reaches into the fridge for a beer. "Want one?"

"Yeah, sure." Sorting through the menus, Ryan finds the one for the neighbourhood Chinese place and dials. He orders a wide selection, then grabs his beer and pulls Sam to a seat at the dining room table. "You want to just relax tonight?" he asks, his eyes moving over his lover's face. "You look pretty shattered."

"If you don't mind," Sam says, not wanting to put a damper on anything Ryan might have planned. "Maybe we can find something decent to watch?"

Ryan snorts a laugh, even though he knows it's really not a funny question. "I watched a lot of TV today," he explains, looking around the dining room for something to distract him. "True Blood."

"Yeah?" Sam grins. "Let me guess. All the episodes with Alex in them." Quickly clamping down hard on any jealousy he might be feeling.

"Yeah... Well, not all of them. Many of them," Ryan amends, propping his chin in his hand with a sigh. "He makes an impression."

Not entirely sure what Ryan's getting at, Sam nods in agreement. "He's a big guy. Good actor."

"Yeah." Ryan studies Sam for a moment, then looks out the window. He doesn't even know what he wants to say, or rather, whether he truly wants to say it at all. "I'm pretty sore," he murmurs, a grin tugging at his lips. "That was really good last night."

Sam grins. "Yeah, it was," he says. "You didn't look too happy when you first showed up though."

"Well, no. I didn't... I mean, I didn't know..." Ryan rolls his eyes at himself, at how awkward he is sometimes. "I thought maybe you'd gotten tired of waiting for me. Changed your mind and found someone else."

Sam slides his hand across the table and links their fingers. "Do you really think that would happen? When I actually called you to come meet me?"

"I don't know." Ryan squeezes Sam's fingers, staring down at their joined hands. "I know I probably shouldn't worry, but..." he shrugs, feeling pathetic. Hating the feeling. "Sometimes I do."

"And what about me? Should I be worried you were watching Alex all day?" Sam asks, figuring they might as well get it out there.

Surprised, Ryan looks up at Sam. He really hadn't thought about it in those terms, but when Sam puts it that way... "I was just curious," he says, trying to explain. "Not..." he shrugs. "Not... anything else."

"Curious in what way?" Sam asks, rubbing his thumb over the back of Ryan's hand.

"Well, here we got to know him pretty well last night," Ryan says. "Intimately, anyway. I figured I'd check out his show and pay more attention to what he's like on-screen." He shrugs. "Just, you know. Curious."

"Does that mean you'd like to see him again?" Sam asks.

It's a dangerous question, and Ryan takes care to think about his answer. "Yeah, I guess," he says casually. "If you want to play with him again, all three of us." Abruptly he blanches. "I mean... I didn't mean... God," he groans, covering his eyes with his hand.

"What? Is there something I'm not getting here?" Sam asks, too tired to try and figure it all out on his own. "Is there something about last night you weren't comfortable with? Or," he can't believe he's going to fucking say this, "are you more into him than you thought you'd be?"

"What? No." Ryan looks at Sam in surprise. "I just meant... I didn't mean to sound like I was saying you couldn't play with him on your own, without me. Like I was putting limits on you. That's not how I meant it."

"Like when you told him you'd freak out if I did something like last night without you?"

Ryan's breath catches, his stomach going cold in an instant. "...Yeah," he whispers, watching Sam anxiously. "I'm really sorry about that." Talking like he's in charge, in front of another dominant... Christ. Ryan knows he's lucky Sam let him come at all last night.

Sam nods. "It's okay. We haven't spent a lot of time around others together and you and I are pretty casual but you do need to think before you speak when we're at the club or with someone who's into all of this."

Dropping his gaze to the table, Ryan nods. He feels about two inches tall when Sam reprimands him, gentle though it is. Somehow the gentleness makes it worse, like Sam's even more disappointed in him than he is angry.

"C'mere," Sam says, getting up and tugging at Ryan's hand. "I'm sick of sitting at this table." He pulls Ryan over into the living room and settles on the couch, tugging Ryan to sit with his legs over his lap, Sam's arms around him. "I want you to talk to me. I want to know what you liked last night and what you didn't. What made you uncomfortable. This is the time to talk to me, when we're alone like this," he adds.

Ryan rubs his cheek against Sam's shoulder and shuts his eyes. "I liked... most of it," he begins slowly. "I mean, once I realized you wanted me there with him, and weren't looking to be with him instead of me, I liked pretty much everything. I was surprised by that, actually," he murmurs. "Surprised that it didn't hurt to watch you with him, I mean. I liked it. It was really fucking hot. And I could deal with it because I knew I was a part of it, too."

"Good," Sam nods, relieved to hear Ryan enjoyed himself. "What else? What didn't you like?"

"Nothing," Ryan says softly, then amends, "I mean, he's a little scary. But so are you." He gives real thought to Sam's question, searching his memories. "I... I was worried you'd think he was a better fuck than me. I'm sure he's a lot tighter. And I liked that he didn't fuck you." He's rambling now, he knows, running everything together.

"You're the only one who gets to fuck me," Sam says quietly, hugging Ryan close. "And he's not a better fuck. He's good but not better."

Of course it's what Sam would say, but it's still good to hear the words. "It really would freak me out if you did that without me," Ryan whispers. "With another boy, I mean. I'm sorry if that's too possessive." He really sucks at all this sometimes.

Sam blows out a breath. At one time it would have gone against his grain to let anyone dictate his life, but this is now and, more importantly, this is Ryan. "It _is_ possessive but I don't know if I'd call it too possessive," he says slowly. "I think you have the right, as my lover, and even as my boy, to tell me when you don't want me doing something."

"Just not in front of someone else?" Ryan frowns, wondering if maybe the lines of their relationship are too fluid after all. Perhaps he's gone about this all wrong.

Sam nods. "It's not anyone's business what you and I agree to behind closed doors, when it's just you and me, but I'm damned if I want everyone else knowing. Why? Do you think I should care less what you want?" he asks, confused by the frown. "Tell you I understand it bugs you but it's not your place to decide who I fuck?"

"I don't know," Ryan answers, tension stiffening his muscles. "I don't know. I guess I just want to know if you're ashamed of what we have. I mean, does it embarrass you that you like me to fuck you?"

"No." Sam's shocked. Couldn't be moreso if Ryan had hauled off and slapped him. "Are you serious? Why would you think that?"

Ryan stares. "Isn't that precisely the kind of thing you just said you don't want me telling anyone?"

Christ. Now Sam's really starting to get confused. "No. I just don't want it sounding like _I'm_ the one with the rules, the one with the collar. That has nothing to do with you fucking me."

"Oh." Ryan stares down at a rip in the thigh of his boxers, watching the way the setting sunlight is caught by the ragged fibers. "So it's okay if I put limits on you," he says slowly, feeling his way, "just so long as no one else knows about them?"

"As long as we're not _negotiating_ them in front of anyone else," Sam says, feeling like he's walking through a fucking minefield here. "It's like with Alex, if he had a boy. If you and I have agreed I'm not going to do certain things, I don't have a problem with telling Alex they're off the table. I just don't want to be talking through that decision _with you_ in front of him."

After a moment, Ryan nods. He understands that. "Okay," he whispers. Saving face, protecting the dominant's ego -- finally he sees where they are here. "I'll remember."

Still unable to shake the feeling that he's stepped wrong somehow, Sam pulls Ryan in closer, kissing the side of his neck. "I love you," he whispers. "So much. And I've never been anyone's sir before, not like this. If I'm fucking up, if I'm not giving you what you need, I need you to tell me that."

"You're fine, love," Ryan murmurs, shaking his head. "It just took me a while to figure out where you were coming from. Sorry for being slow."

Sam smiles. "Sorry for not explaining myself better," he says, wishing in a way he could just start this evening over. "Maybe we can blame it all on a lack of sleep. And Alex." He grins.

"Yeah, blame him. He's a convenient target." And conveniently not here. The doorbell rings, and Ryan slips off Sam's lap to go fetch their dinner.

Sam moves back to the kitchen, pulling plates from the cupboards and cutlery from the drawer. He's too tired to fiddle around with chopsticks. He has the table set by the time Ryan comes back with the food and settles heavily into his chair, reaching for the first dish Ryan pulls out, his stomach grumbling loudly at the smell.

The sound makes Ryan smile. He unpacks all the bags, laying out the various dishes so Sam has a wide selection to choose from. "Next week, Tenerife, right?" he asks, sitting down. "Another place I've never been before."

"You'll love it. The island's really beautiful. Nice and green and it's hot and we'll be close to the water. Lots of places to run," Sam says, scooping some of everything onto his plate and digging in like he hasn't eaten in a week.

"Good." There are things Ryan absolutely loves about London. But he misses being out in the open. "A few weeks there, and then... home?" he asks hopefully.

Sam nods. "Shit. I forgot to mention to you," he says. "Natalie suggested we look into having a secret door put between the master bedroom and the guest one. She was kidding but I was thinking we could have Citadel look at the floorplans and figure out whether it's possible. That way, if people were staying with us, you could go back and forth and if Natalie had to be there, you and her could switch places."

Ryan stares at Sam in bemusement for a moment, then laughs. "A _secret passageway?_ " he exclaims dramatically. "With bats? And maybe a ghost?"

Sam laughs too, ducking his head a little. "Stupid idea?"

"No." Ryan shakes his head, grinning. "I mean, I don't see us needing to use it all that much. But just think if Tom ever comes to visit us in L.A. like he said he would. That door would be a stroke of brilliance."

Sam grins. "That's what I was thinking. Hey. What are we going to say about the playroom? I mean, I assume we're keeping it locked when it's not in use but it's also not going to be on the tour." He pauses to take a huge bite of spring roll. "Storage? Full of crap?"

"Hmmm." It's more fun than it should be, thinking up a bunch of lies for their loved ones. "How about... Ryan is allowed one room in the house where he can be messy. When he's working, or whatever. And we keep it locked up, because heaven forbid it should stress out Sam."

That gets a laugh and Sam nods. "I like that. That works. Just remember," he says, taking a sip of beer, "no one else knows about my OCD. They just think I'm a little weird when it comes to keeping things just so."

"Sam, you don't have to worry that I'll tell anyone," Ryan says softly.

"I know," Sam says, sitting back and rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I just didn't know if you remembered that _no one_ else knows, except my parents."

"I remember." Ryan watches his lover in silence for a moment, then gets up and circles the table to stand behind Sam's chair. He gently tugs Sam's shirt collar down, then lays his fingers on his nape, beginning to rub at the tension there.

"Mm... feels so good," Sam murmurs, closing his eyes. He can actually _feel_ the knots of tension loosening.

"You always bring the day home with you," Ryan says softly, stroking tight muscles. "What did you do with it before me? I mean, don't answer that. I know what you did. But did it work?"

"I used to think it did," Sam says, eyes still closed, his head bowed, giving Ryan better access. "But it just kind of pushed it back for a while."

Ryan nods, considering that. Slowly he works his way down to Sam's shoulders and digs in a little deeper. "What did you think of what Alex said, about you being born-again?"

Sam gasps. It hurts but in a good way. He shrugs a little. "I don't know. It's not like I'm trying to convert anybody," he says. "If it was just a matter of having a boy or girl, I would've got one a long time ago. It's having _you_ that's made the difference."

Thinking, Ryan smiles slightly. As long as Sam feels that way... He feels some of his own tension dissipate, finally. "Have you had enough to eat?" he asks.

"Yeah," Sam nods, tilting his head back to look up at Ryan. Wondering if his lover knows just how fucking in love with him he is. "What about you?"

"Yeah." Ryan caresses Sam's nape with his fingers. "Want to go chill out on the couch?"

"Want me to help clean up first?"

"Nah, I've got it, love." It's not like there's a huge mess to be dealt with, anyway. Ryan clears up the takeaway containers and stuffs them all into the fridge before dealing with their few dishes. "Go find something to watch?"

"Sure." Sam stretches out on the couch and picks up the remote, cycling through the channels and the onscreen guide. " _Girl with the Dragon Tattoo_ 's on in 15. You ever seen that? It's subtitled though." Normally he wouldn't mind but he's not sure he has the energy to read whatever he's watching tonight. "There's _The Green Hornet_ , or the original _Hangover_ ," wrinkling his nose again. "Oooh! _300_! Never mind - that might be too much like work."

Ryan chuckles, lying down to put his head on Sam's thigh and kicking his feet over the end of the sofa. "Definitely don't want something that's going to turn me on," he jokes, shifting to get totally comfortable. "Green Hornet."

"Why's that?" Sam grins, switching the remote to his left hand and putting his arm around Ryan. "You think you're not getting lucky tonight?"

"I did kind of think that, yeah." Ryan tilts his head to look up at Sam. "My poor exhausted boyfriend had a rough day at work and a rougher night last night. Thought he might want some time to recover."

"I could make you do all the work," Sam says with a soft laugh.

"You could." Ryan hesitates, though. Their conversation this evening has been so up and down, and he still doesn't feel quite right. "Maybe," he says tentatively, "maybe we could just... hang out?"

"Sure, okay," Sam says, although he'd feel better if they had sex. Ryan not wanting to has to be a first and it unsettles him. "Green Hornet, yeah?"

"Right. I heard it's funny," Ryan says, sitting up so he can cuddle against Sam. It's what he really wanted to ask for, but didn't have the nerve. Maybe Sam will cuddle him anyway.

Sam orders the movie and sets the remote aside. He wraps his arm around Ryan again and tugs him closer, kissing the top of his head. "I never asked what else you did today," he says, completely uninterested in the opening credits.

"Nothing productive," Ryan murmurs, thinking of all his Alex-watching. He rubs his cheek against Sam's shoulder, soothing himself. Still unsettled from their misunderstanding. He's not even pretending to watch the screen; his gaze is on his hand as he strokes his fingers over Sam's chest, touching without demand.

Sam's not used to a quiet Ryan. Couldn't care less about the fucking movie. "Hey. Are you okay?" he asks, unable to just let it rest.

"Yeah," Ryan whispers. He lifts his head and nuzzles Sam's jaw, breathing his lover in. "Just feel bad." Usually by now they'd have fucked and gotten it all out of their systems, but his mind is still too muddled for that. Confused. "If I didn't embarrass you," he says softly, referring back to when he'd implied in front of Alex that he puts limits on Sam, "then... what?"

"I don't know," Sam says, frowning a little. Not really sure why it bothered him. Not that he can put into words. Shit. "It just - it wasn't any of his business," he says softly, "and I didn't know you felt that way and I didn't want to talk to you about it in front of him."

"Okay." Ryan breathes a kiss over Sam's throat. "Does it surprise you that I'd feel that way?"

"A little," Sam admits, smiling at the kiss. "I don't really get how it's any different from me fucking Alex or some boy in the bar," he says quietly.

"It's not different," Ryan whispers. "All of those things would freak me out." God, it's official: he absolutely sucks at this. Sighing he pulls away and sits back, dragging a hand through his hair.

Sam's chest aches and he reaches out for Ryan. "Don't do that," he says, pulling him back in against him. "Talk to me. How much?"

"How much would it freak me out?" Ryan asks, confused. "You want, like, on a scale of one to ten or something?"

"No." Sam exhales softly, struggling with his thoughts and with putting them into words. "More like is it going to end up hurting you and then hurting us if I'm doing things that are freaking you out."

"Oh. No," Ryan says, thinking about it. "No, I know that's who you are. I know it's important to you to have that freedom. I can deal with being a little freaked out.”

"Okay." Sam breathes a sigh of relief. "Because I don't want to promise you anything I might not be able to give," he says. "I'd rather just promise you that you're the one I love, the one I'll always come to home to no matter what."

"That's the most important part," Ryan agrees, and goes back to lightly caressing Sam's chest. "If you always come home to me after, then I can deal with the freaking-out."

Sam nods, shifting so he can kiss Ryan, softly on the mouth. "You mean the world to me," he whispers.

Shutting his eyes, Ryan lets the words echo in his mind. Imprinting the memory of this moment. "I'm yours," he whispers back, opening his eyes again to focus on Sam's face. He licks out over Sam's lips, slowly tasting him.

"Forever?" Sam murmurs, licking back.

It's still a shock to hear a word like that leave Sam's mouth. "For as long as you want me around," Ryan answers, curling his fingers into the fabric of Sam's t-shirt.

"Forever then," Sam insists, kissing Ryan harder. Every bit of emotion he's feeling poured into the press of his lips.

Ryan's heart clutches into a painful knot. He has no defenses against Sam. Not anymore. He whimpers into the kiss, his hands moving restlessly over his lover. Tugging Sam's shirt up and over his head.

Sam lets Ryan get his shirt off but then he's pushing his lover back against the couch, head bent to get his mouth on Ryan's nipple, licking and sucking and gently biting at the ring.

Ryan groans brokenly, lifting his hand to tangle in Sam's hair. Blood pulses in his cock at the tease, and he arches slightly to push against Sam's mouth. "Harder," he whispers, "please."

It's probably still too soon to be doing this but Sam can't deny Ryan. He bites harder, tugging at the ring with his teeth.

" _Yes_." Ryan drops his head back, breathing hard. "Sam," he gasps, "Sir! Please..." he pushes his free hand down between them to tug at Sam's belt, needing him naked, and now.

Mouth moving over Ryan's chest, between nipples, his teeth hard and demanding on the ringed flesh, Sam shifts once and then again, one hand working with Ryan's to get his jeans down and off. Naked, that same hand moves between Ryan's legs, cupping him through his boxers, his palm ground against the rigid line of Ryan's cock.

Ryan cries out, rocking into Sam's hand. "Please, Sir," he gasps, shamelessly rubbing until he feels his boxers dampen with precome. He digs his fingernails into Sam's shoulders. "God, Sir, please fuck me."

Pulling back for a moment, his breath coming hard and heavy, Sam drags Ryan's boxers down, shoving them from his ankles with his foot. Slides his hand back between Ryan's thighs, fingers stroking over his hole. His dry hole. Christ. "You're not prepped," he whispers, biting at Ryan's mouth, his cock jerking roughly, beading precome at the tip.

"What?" Ryan lifts his head, surprised. And he frantically thinks back: he stepped out of the shower and heard Sam's voice, dried his hair then went to greet his lover... "Fuck, you're right," he murmurs. He clenches his muscles and a shock of lust streaks through him.

Sam grins. "Feet up," he orders, slipping to the floor, his eyes sparkling.

Wide-eyed, Ryan obeys. He tucks his hands behind his knees and lies back, breath hitching harshly in his chest.

"Mm. Look at that," Sam murmurs, pressing his thumb hard against Ryan's hole, forcing the tip just inside.

Ryan whimpers, his entire body tightening. He's mad to be doing this now, after last night -- taking anything dry after having two cocks stuffed in his ass. But he tries to work Sam's thumb inside him just the same.

"Greedy boy," Sam teases, pulling his thumb back and slapping Ryan's hole.

"Fuck!" Ryan's entire body jerks in shock. He fists his hands together, hitching his knees up just that little bit higher.

Eyes locked on Ryan's, Sam spreads his lover's cheeks with his hands and leans in, licking over his hole.

"Ohh, god." Ryan is mesmerized, hypnotized. He shivers, melting into Sam's wicked touch. Begging for more with every quiver of his muscles.

Sam licks around that tight pucker, circling the rim again and again before he finally pushes in, forcing it open for his tongue.

Ryan cries out, arching his back. "Oh god, Sir," he moans. "So fucking good. Please. More, please."

Cock throbbing sharply with that cry, those words, Sam stabs his tongue into Ryan, fucking his hole as deeply and as wetly as he can.

Ryan's mind is melting. He rocks his hips on the couch, opening himself totally for Sam's mouth. And his control is fraying rapidly. "Gonna come, gonna come," he whispers in warning. "Please, Sir, need you!"

Sam pulls back and rocks to his feet. He braces his hands against the back of the couch and lines up, shoving his cock into Ryan's spit-slicked hole.

"Fuck!" Pain sears through Ryan, lighting his whole body on fire. His back snaps into an arch and he grinds down on Sam's cock, forcing his body to stretch. Giving his lover everything.

Sam groans, his cock held so fucking tight he thinks he might lose it before he even starts. But he leans down, kissing Ryan, biting at his mouth, letting his lover taste himself on his tongue, his cock throbbing, waiting for that clench to ease before he starts fucking him, thrusting into him at a furious pace.

Every harsh slap of flesh makes Ryan whimper. He drops his knees to the sides, making more room for Sam. Reaching, he cups Sam's ass and starts moving with him, raking his nails over his lover's skin.

"Oh, fuck," Sam groans, breath hitching, skin stinging, his hips almost on auto-pilot, every last bit of willpower put into keeping his orgasm at bay as long as he can. "You feel so good," he gasps, slamming in even harder.

"Love you," Ryan gasps, "love you!" He shudders hard, a shock of warning moving through him. "So close," he chokes out, "please, Sir, let me come for you!"

Sam nods. "With me," he whispers, managing one more thrust, maybe two, before he's coming so hard, so violently, his whole body seizes tight with it and he cries out into the room.

Arching off the couch, Ryan spills between them, his nails digging into Sam's skin. His head swims and he clutches at his lover, arms locked tight around him now. Keeping Sam close as he shivers through an aftershock.

Sam drops down to kiss Ryan, groaning softly into his mouth. "I love you so much," he whispers, the words smeared against Ryan's lips. "So much."

Squeezing his eyes shut tight, Ryan nods. God, he needs to hear that. As much as he already knows... "I still need to hear that," he whispers, forcing himself to ease up his grip on Sam the tiniest bit. "So completely in love with you."

"I'll tell you every day," Sam promises between soft kisses. "And I won't ever stop telling you."  



End file.
